


boom, boom, pow!

by yolks



Category: Ookiku Furikabutte | Big Windup!
Genre: Confessions, Fluff, Getting Together, M/M, Mutual Pining, Rivals to Lovers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-09
Updated: 2020-12-09
Packaged: 2021-03-09 17:42:16
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,171
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27880205
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yolks/pseuds/yolks
Summary: “He won’t budge, man, you know him. The first time I called him Azusa, it was during batting practice, and he blushed way hard.”“Dang, wish I could make our captain blush.”How many different feelings can two people have for each other? What's in a name? Does Wonder Hitter Yuuichirou Tajima have FOMO? And what's the freakin' deal with the captain?
Relationships: Hanai Azusa/Tajima Yuuichirou
Comments: 6
Kudos: 20





	boom, boom, pow!

**Author's Note:**

> big windup: kids in love

It’s not like Yuuichirou doesn’t respect the captain – the reliable, strong guy, everything Yuuichirou will always try and fail to be – it’s just… at this point, everybody’s allowed to call Hanai by his first name except Yuuichirou, and frankly he’s feeling a _little_ bit left out. 

“He won’t budge, man, you know him,” Fumiki says during a study break when Yuuichirou brings it up. He stifles a laugh. “The first time I called him Azusa, it was during batting practice, and he blushed way hard.”

“Dang, wish I could make our captain blush.”

“Feels good, not gonna lie. It also doesn’t feel like I’m calling on a teacher anymore.”

“ _Exactly_. What a tight-ass.” Yuuichirou bites off a piece of rice ball his mom made and chews intensely. From the last two weeks of asking ( _pester_ was the word Hanai used, and Yuuichirou probably should’ve taken more offense to that), it seems like Hanai’s dead set on this ban. Yuuichirou knows he’s only upset because he’s the left one out. He knows it’s jealousy and he knows it’s dumb. But it’s been a year and a few days since the ten of them unanimously decided that, yeah, the team’s only a team if we’re closer, so first names it is, and Hanai has yet to give Yuuichirou the okay. It strikes Yuuichirou as odd, that's all. What irks him most, though, is not knowing _why_. 

“Well.” Fumiki helps himself to the last rice ball. “Worry about not failing your midterms first.” 

The cicadas outside cry and cry and cry until Yuuichirou can’t stand it. He sighs sharply and opens his notebook to the last page he folded up. “Let’s do some math, then.”

For the first time since forever, Hanai misses practice. Food poisoning, Coach Momo said. Pretty stupid, Yuuichirou thinks, and then bursts out laughing when he remembers he got food poisoning around the same time two years ago. 

“You okay?” Next to him, Kousuke slips his mitt on with a mildly perplexed look. 

“Never better, Kousuke.” The low sun just about touches the horizon, and everything is coated with that really nice, energizing golden that Yuuichirou loves. His mind is clear as clear can be, thoughts rushing in like waves, and his body feels like a spring. “I was just remembering the time I got food poisoning a few years back. I had to puke in the train station bathroom.” 

Kousuke makes a face, walking away.

Yuuto begins stretching his wrists. “It’s so not like him to get poisoned from food, y’know what I mean?” 

“Wonder what he ate,” Yuuichirou ponders. 

Entering from the field dripping with sweat, Takaya jogs over to get some water, not with an answer, but with a message.

“Yuu,” he says, wiping sweat from his upper lip with the collar of his shirt, “Coach wants to see you. She’s by the machines.” 

Yuuichirou lights up. “Okey-doke.”

It’s not too often that Coach Momo calls for him, but whenever she does, it’s to talk about catcher strategies, and that’s always exciting. He’s gotten way better, way more comfortable, and, though he’ll never be as good as Takaya, being a catcher is close to second nature now, like breaking into a new mitt for the first time and knowing yeah, it’ll stick. 

But – it’s not catcher strats. So far from it, actually, that Yuuichirou, steadfast with any challenge and surprise, is taken aback. 

“Oh.” He blinks at his coach, and repeats her request in his head. “To Hanai?”

Coach Momo tips her cap up to regard him properly. “That’s what I said.” 

_Why me_ is on the tip of Yuuichirou’s tongue, ready to pounce, but the grin that the coach flashes at him kills it, and shuts him up. It’s a pointed grin, one that she uses to let them know she doesn’t want to entertain any form of complaining or talking back. It’s wildly effective for some reason. Probably because it's freakin' terrifying. So when she says, “Got it?” all Yuuichirou can do is swallow his suspicion, his curiosity, his frustration at not knowing a damn thing, and say, “Yes, ma’am.” 

Later that evening around six-twenty p.m, Yuuichirou bids Ren goodbye instead of riding with him and veers off towards Hanai’s. Following Kousuke’s directions, Yuuichirou finds himself at the Hanai residence just as his watch strikes seven. 

“Could’ve rode faster,” he mumbles to himself.

He sends a quick text to his parents letting them know he’ll be a little later than usual, then rings the doorbell. Hanai’s mother answers, wearing an apron and a warm, surprised smile. 

“You’re the amazing Tajima!” she says, after exchanging hellos. 

Yuuichirou gleams at the compliment. “Just Yuuichirou for tonight, ma’am.” 

Inside the house, Hanai’s twin sisters run around yelling and chasing each other, thumps resounding across wooden floors. “It’s a little noisy,” Mrs. Hanai says apologetically. “They’ve just finished dinner.”

“It’s cool, I’m just dropping by to give Hanai his homework.” He notes, a little belatedly, that Hanai has his mom’s smile.

“He actually – ah! Do come in! Let’s get you out of this heat. Highest temperatures in six months, apparently!” 

“Yeah, felt that today.” 

“It seems some expired yogurt got to him… he wouldn’t tell me what it was he ate, but I had a little peek in the trash can. What a silly kid.”

“Been there, done that. I was fourteen.” They share a little laugh. Right on cue, Yuuichirou feels a bite of hunger teetering on an unpleasant growl. “Anyway, I’ll be quick. I gotta get home before Mom gets mad. Is he in his room?” Hanai’s probably asleep or bedridden, so it wouldn’t take long, and he can make it back home before dinner gets cold. Mom’s making burgers tonight. 

Upstairs, he opens the door to Hanai’s room (“Last door on the right!”) and finds the guy himself, lying on his side, wide awake with headphones in and a laptop in front of him. 

“Oh.”

Hanai looks up at the movement, doing a double take. He pulls his headphones off. “Tajima.” Unsurely, he adds, “Hey.” 

_Tajima_. The flaring annoyance of being called that is bulldozed by a sense of wonder of seeing Nishiura’s captain’s room for the first time ever. Yuuichirou gets distracted by the movie posters on the walls, the super tidy desk, and the cool orange rug by the bed. “Sick room, cap.” 

“Thanks. Did... Mom let you in? Hey, don’t just –”

“Has anyone ever been in here? Am I the first?” Yuuichirou rushes to pick up a snow globe on the desk, or what looks like it at first glance. “Whoa.” He shakes the thing. “It’s a bunch of fish!” The plastic fish sway and wobble around. “Cute. They totally don’t look like they’re swimming, though.” 

“What are you, uh, doing?” 

Yuuichirou raises the blue folder of worksheets in his hand, turning to face Hanai. “Got your homework. Coach's orders.” 

“Ah. Right.” Hanai slinks off the bed to get it, muttering a thanks. He looks fine, if a little colourless. Smells clean, too, soapy and fresh and very much non-pukey. He sure brushes up quick; Yuuichirou remembers feeling too weak to even shower. Up close, Yuuichirou notices his dry, cracked lips. 

“Drinking enough water, cap?”

Hanai glances up momentarily. “What? Ah shit, I had a pop quiz today…” 

Yuuichirou points at Hanai’s mouth. “Your lips are so dry. You gotta hydrate if you wanna recover.”

“Don’t worry about it, Mom.” 

“Seriously, I got food poisoning a few years ago and it sucked ass, and the one thing that saved me was water.”

Hanai raises a brow in mock interest, flipping through the folder. “Yeah?” 

It’s kind of funny how different Hanai is when he doesn’t have the captain switch turned on. He seems younger, more keyed down. His voice has less control around it, like he doesn’t care who he’s talking to, or how he talks, or what he says. The only thing that doesn’t change is his studious face. Yuuichirou wonders if it’ll grow sterner the older he gets. 

Hanai flips to another page, skimming it. “I was fine this morning, but Mom wouldn’t let me go.” He closes the folder, rubbing his nose. “That woman… all I needed was one night’s sleep. Doesn’t she know athletes recover super quickly?”

“Oh, you’re an athlete, are ya?” 

“We all are, aren’t we?” He reaches around Yuuichirou to place the folder on the desk, and Yuuichirou catches another whiff of that soapy smell. Minty, orangey, something or other...

“I’m not calling myself an athlete until we get to that damn stadium.” Yuuichirou tries not to sniff, but – it’s _hard_. He likes things smelling nice, so he can’t help but lean in as Hanai leans back. This does not go unnoticed by Hanai, who gives him another eyebrow raise. 

“On a technical level,” Hanai says, slowly, “we’re athletes, Koushien or not.”

“I know. But it feels huge. I don’t think I’m ready to carry that just yet. I need to breathe that air first, y’know?”

“I guess.” 

“You’re right though, Azusa.” 

Hanai visibly stiffens. Just as expected.

That’s another thing Yuuichirou can’t help, unfortunately. “Sorry. Was that sudden?”

Red spreads across Hanai’s face in blotches. “Just... watch it.”

“Why’re you blushing?”

“Don’t mess with me!” 

Yuuichirou frowns. “Okay, okay, relax, I’m not messing with you. I’m calling you by your name. Here, call me Yuu. Try it. Yuuichirou’s fine too.” 

“No.”

Yuuichirou’s annoyance flares again. “I get it, I’m younger than you by six or seven months, so you won’t let me call you Azusa. But you can call me Yuu. I don’t mind.” 

Hanai looks like he’s holding back saying something. “It’s not like that.” 

“Well… okay, it’d be a different story if everyone else is still calling you Hanai, but it’s just _me_ left. I mean, what’s with that?” 

“I don’t feel like talking about it,” Hanai says, with a degree of finality Yuuichirou has only heard him use with the coach. 

Yuuichirou stills at the way Hanai’s face closes up. Is it that big of a deal to him? 

He doesn’t want to entertain the next thought that pops up. He never did, never planned to, but it seems like it’s the only route left to go down. He studies Hanai, stubbornly defiant. 

Rivals. Is that it? Is that _all_ Hanai thinks of them as? Is there no gray area? No room for friendship, or closeness, or, or – 

This treatment is strange at best. At worst, it’s a feeling in the chest Yuuichirou can’t quite name. Not exclusion, not petty jealousy. It’s beyond any of that. 

“Sorry.” Yuuichirou relents, after a fall of silence. He keeps his gaze on Hanai, and Hanai levels with him right back. “Didn’t mean to make it weird.” 

“It’s fine.” 

It seems that Hanai has nothing left to say, standing there unmoving, unwavering, unreadable as ever. Yuuichirou takes his leave. When he arrives home, it’s ten to eight. Nobody greets him back; they’re all upstairs, shut in their rooms. He heads into the kitchen humming some pop song he heard on the radio. Damn… the burgers are cold. 

Over the next two weeks, Yuuichirou buried himself in baseball and studying. By the time midterms rolled around, he felt like a husk of a guy. He barely remembered anything he wrote on his papers, or what papers they were, or what the colour of the sky looked like. 

And then, just like that, it’s all over, and the team reconvenes with Coach Momo bearing the news of a game next week. From then on, life starts feeling _good_ again, like it’s meant to be lived and breathed. Yuuichirou lets everyone know with a loud yell during their warm-up stretches. The rest of them, while a little surprised at first, quickly follow, echoing Yuuichirou with their own yells. 

Azusa Hanai, however, keeps his mouth shut, and looks away into the trees. 

“All right!” Coach Momo’s voice rings clear through the crisp dawn air, signalling the end of stretches. She claps her hands once. “Pair drills! We’re batting and catching! Find your partner and move!”

Yuuichirou looks over to where Hanai’s standing for the stretches, but he isn’t there. He looks to his left. Ren and Yuuto giggle at something the other said. To his right, Takaya lectures Kousuke about his lame bunting skills as of late.

“Tajima. Get going.” 

“Yeah, uh – Coach? My partner’s missing.” 

Coach Momo points towards the far-ish distance. A singular tall figure is jogging ahead of the group headed for the benches. 

Yuuichirou sighs, lowering his cap. “Right. Thanks.” He runs over and catches up in no time. Hanai’s eyes are vacant, staring straight ahead. Yuuichirou doesn’t like that look on him. 

“What’s wrong?”

Hanai glances at him. “What?”

Much as he tries, Yuuichirou’s reply comes off snappy. “Something’s bothering you. I can tell.” Crap. 

Hanai’s gaze turns dark. “You my counsellor or something?”

“What I am,” Yuuichirou says, “is your teammate.” 

Hanai’s jaw tightens. He glares at Yuuichirou with such contempt that’d be hard to knock off if Yuuichirou didn’t know better. Hanai’s mad at _himself_. Yuuichirou can’t take everything this guy says and does personally. He runs ahead and stands in front of Hanai, stopping him in his way. 

“Is it my fault?” 

Hanai pushes past him. Yuuichirou keeps up.

“You can’t avoid it forever, and neither can I. You don’t like dragging things out, and neither do I. So let’s get this over and done with, whatever the hell _this_ is.”

Hanai wordlessly picks up a bat. Yuuichirou follows. Hanai fastens his mitts. Yuuichirou carries his. The only thing he hears besides the birds is his and Hanai’s exhales, falling in time with the scuffing of their spikes as they head back to the field in heavy silence. Patience, as Yuuichirou learnt over time, is key, particularly with Hanai. Yuuichirou can’t push too much – back then, he probably would’ve. He takes a cleansing breath, something his grandfather taught him recently, and closes his eyes for a moment. 

Alright. Practice time, just like always. Nothing to it. Can’t let this small chip between them get in the way of drills. He opens his eyes.

Across from him, Hanai tosses the ball in the air then catches it — up and down, up and down, sky to mitt, sky to mitt. Yuuichirou’s grip on the bat tightens.

“Can’t avoid this forever,” Hanai mutters. He breathes in, and on his exhale, he wears an expression that’s a lot less pissed off. “Okay. Fine.” His voice is louder. _Thump_ goes the ball, landing in leather. “We’ll talk.”

Yuuichirou keeps an eye on him.

Hanai shields his eyes from the glare of the sun. A bead of sweat runs down the side of his face and hangs around his chin. He fixes his gaze on Yuuichirou, ready to throw. “See me after lunch.”

Yuuichirou gets into position too. “Can do.”

The temperature’s at its highest when they arrive at the rooftop. It’s practically boiling. But Yuuichirou is undeterred. 

“Trying to get me alone, Hanai?” Yuuichirou grins waggishly, bounding behind Hanai.

Hanai turns to face him. “Yes.” There’s this determination in his voice that makes Yuuichirou drop his grin. Hot wind puffs through them and makes it hard to breathe for a second.

It’s a beat or two before Yuuichirou speaks up again. “Okay. Hey, if it’s about me being at your house that day, your mom totally let me in, and I had a task to –”

“Can I hold your hand?”

The question is rushed out, so fast Yuuichirou almost doesn't catch it, but when he does, his mind goes blank, like a computer that shuts off during a power outage, and all his words fall away. “What?” Is that a joke? No… it isn’t. Hanai doesn’t kid around a lot. “Why?”

“Meditation.”

“Meditation,” Yuuichirou echoes. “Okay, yeah. We can do that.” There couldn’t possibly be any harm in it, even if it does feel sort of like a prank. Yuuichirou looks to his left and right, surveying for hidden cameras, before lifting his hand. Hanai promptly places his palm against it. It’s cold and clammy. “You feeling alright?” 

Hanai exhales, imperceptibly, and shakes his head. He bends his fingers, slipping them between Yuuichirou’s, and then, just like that… they’re holding hands.

“O… _kay?_ ” 

Hanai’s gaze is fixed on Yuuichirou’s left shoe, and his face is a deep, unsightly shade of red, like he just finished doing laps around the field. He’s – _fidgety_. 

“What are we… um. What are we doing?” Yuuchirou feels like he shouldn’t be seeing the way Hanai keeps flexing and unflexing his grip, or the way his lips are quivering ever so slightly. But he can’t look away. This is a whole new Hanai he’s never seen before, all nervous and sweaty. It makes his stomach turn. 

Hanai grimaces and squeezes his eyes shut. “Is it working?” 

“Is what working? I’m sorry, your hands are so moist, holy shit.”

Hanai’s eyes snap open. “ _Gah_ , that coach!” 

“Huh?”

Hanai lets go, a sudden movement. “Damn it! Shit. Ugh… okay… forget about that. Please.” 

Yuuichirou wiggles his fingers. They’re warm. His whole hand is. “Couldn’t if I tried, cap,” he jests, but the words carry some weight, way more than he intended, and Yuuichirou can’t take it back. He thinks he should’ve. Maybe. Hanai glances at him, startled. Shit, he should’ve. ‘Cause now there’s a layer of _awkward_ and Yuuichiroufeels like _he_ just ran laps, heart racing like a maniac. He shakes his head. “What was that about, man? Coach put you up to – what the fuck’s happening?”

“Yes. Well, no. That is, I…”

“You’re using your captain voice.”

“My… what?”

“Your captain voice.” Yuuichirou wipes his suddenly sweaty palms on his pants. “It’s all formal? It’s like you’re trying to make yourself sound way more reliable to adults. You _are_ reliable, so I don’t know why you do it. Also, I’m not an adult.” 

“…Right.” Hanai frowns. “Thanks?” 

“You looked like you were about to say something. Go ahead.” 

“Right… thanks.”

Crap. His lips are growing numb. Yuuichirou takes a quiet, sharp inhale and breathes out. Cleansing breath, cleansing breath. He hasn’t felt like this since… was it elementary? There was a school play, and he got stage fright, and his teacher had his mom go backstage to give him pep talks throughout his scenes. Except this isn’t a stage and he’s not doing a play. This is… Hanai. He had _never_ felt this much dread and apprehension balled into one ugly mass in games, practice or not.

A sudden gust of wind blows. Leaves skitter about. If this was some romance novel it’d be flower petals and they’d be floating, airy light, like the ones in Mom’s corny books. 

Hanai looks up just then, catching Yuuichirou as he glances Hanai’s way. 

“Yuu.” Hanai’s jaw is set, fists balled at his sides, and there’s a fire of concentration in his eyes like he’s about to hit a big one home. 

Did… did he hear that right? It was quick and sudden, but very obvious – the air shifts. All of that time spent in baseball games attunes you to energy, electricity, changes in mood and momentum, everything. That, just now, whatever that was – that felt huge.

“Azusa?” 

Hanai – Azusa – drops his gaze. Yuuichirou can’t help the small smile on his face.

“Holy shit. You said it.”

“What? Your stupid name?”

“Duh! Was it that hard?”

Hanai gulps. He nods. Yuuichirou tilts his head, frowning.

“I don’t get it.” 

“I’m... I’m scared, okay?” Hanai says, a little angrily. “Scared like… like that feeling when you go up to someone you like and you can’t talk to them, and it feels like… the world’s stopping just for the two of you or something!” 

“…What?” Azusa speaks clearly, surely, even when he’s mad or stressed or sad, and Yuuichirou feels like he’s breaking something when he speaks. “You’re scared of me?”

“Yes… and no.”

“Yes and no? At the same time?” 

“Yes.” Azusa falls silent. Yuuichirou swallows drily. At this point in most of their conversations, Azusa would usually start to lose his patience and give Yuuichirou a painful noogie. But right now, he’s just… thinking. He’s thinking and rethinking and Yuuichirou sees it in the way his face is still, like a pond on a windless, sunny afternoon, how his whole height holds him up like a pillar. Yuuichirou has seen this before in games and in practices, but, right now, twelve-something-p.m when he last checked, on a rooftop with just the two of them, it’s something else entirely. Yuuichirou can’t look away all the same. 

“I… like you.”

Yuuichirou’s heart drops and springs back up.

For the second time in his life, he can’t speak. 

“I’m scared… of how open you are, ‘cause I’m scared you’ll open me up, too. If that makes sense. It’s ok if you don’t get it.” Azusa looks up, right at Yuuichirou, strongest gaze on anyone Yuuichirou’s ever seen. “I just think you’re amazing. It’s terrifying how you always, always put yourself out there, for anyone and anything. I was jealous. Still am. I thought they were gonna replace me as captain at some point; I’ll fail to hold everyone together because I don’t have what you have. Don’t – uh, don’t try and comfort me or whatever, that’s not the point. The point is… I started getting scared of that. And then… of you. And then, fucking out of nowhere, my feelings for you… I didn’t expect it. So that was scary too. I think that’s why I… y’know.”

Something Yuuichirou has that Azusa doesn’t. Something Azusa has that Yuuichirou doesn’t. “Azu –” 

“I know it’s stupid.” Hanai rubs his nose. “But that’s what I am sometimes. I’m not the reliable captain you think I am. I freak out and get weird about stuff. I’m… I wish…” Hanai shakes his head. “I’ll never be you.” 

“You’re deep. You have depth.” Yuuichirou rushes, water from a dam. “That’s why you’re captain. You think about stuff. I think about baseball and jacking off. That’s me, and that’s okay. So, yeah, you’re right – you’ll never be me, but I’ll never be _you_ , either.” 

Azusa looks down at his shoes. “Yeah.” 

“I… look, I think I understand.” It’s easy to get Ren. It’s becoming easier to see the intention behind Takaya’s severe way of speaking. With Azusa, it’s… like attempting to traverse a thick forest. Some metaphor about the earth’s ocean flies around in Yuuichirou’s head. There’s another one about canyons, and one about the woods. He gets it now. He gets _him_. He smiles, and gets it, and the smile widens into a grin, and from the grin comes a small laugh. “Wow.” He laughs up at the sky, louder, and gets it. His own feelings and Azusa’s, and Azusa himself: so different, and – and yet – “You sure are something, captain.”

Like something out of a movie, Yuuichirou finds it in himself, at the very last moment, to surge in for a kiss. Except, unlike a movie, the kiss ends up being short, gross, and full of teeth. He pulls away with a cackle. “I’ve never done that before!” 

Hanai presses his fingers to where Yuuichirou’s lips landed, face scrunched in pain. “Really?” he says, edged with sarcasm. 

“Bet you haven’t done it either.”

“Of course I haven’t!”

Yuuichirou grins. “That makes us each other’s firsts.” 

The tips of Azusa’s ears redden. “Don’t just – Yuu, you can’t –” 

Yuuichirou whoops, heart full, so full, so very very full it’s almost hurting. “Say it again!”

“ _No_.”

“Say it!”

Azusa belatedly hides his grin behind a hand. “You.” He jabs a finger at Yuuichirou’s forehead, red-cheeked. “Have no idea how long I’ve been waiting for that.” 

“And _you_ , Azusa,” Yuuichirou jabs back with a wild, toothy grin, “really do have your mom’s smile, no wonder I was so fucking attracted to her…”

“Suck me.”

“How long have you been saving that?” 

“Don’t know, wasn’t really counting.”

Yuuichirou gasps. “We have practice after school! And, fuck, we've got a game next week...” 

“Yeah, why?”

Yuuichirou turns to leave the rooftop, and Azusa follows suit, walking by his side. “Just excited, is all.”

“You’re always so pumped about baseball.” Their hands knock against each other as they walk. “How do you do it?” 

“Dunno.” Yuuichirou nudges Azusa with a happy, absurd pounding in his chest. “It’s you I’m pumped about today.”

“Ugh…” 

“Say, can we hold hands while entering the field? It felt kinda nice when – no? Okay, your face is telling me no.”

Things that don't make sense in the moment make sense later on. Yuuichirou's finding out that he's totally cool with that, if it's Azusa involved. Azusa tries his best at everything he does, so the least Yuuichirou can do is to try his damn best too. Currently, hand holding is on that list. He sure hopes Azusa comes around soon enough, 'cause if he can for this, then he'll be okay with almost anything.

**Author's Note:**

> schewpid wonderful boys. i wanted sth light! i hope i did them justice.....?


End file.
